


Too Human

by dicksoutforproblematiccontent



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brief appearances of Nightmare and Shadow, Canon-Typical Violence, Demons, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Fights, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Lack of Communication, Passive Suicidal Ideation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Split!Dante, Unresolved Emotional Tension, human!Dante
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicksoutforproblematiccontent/pseuds/dicksoutforproblematiccontent
Summary: Having escaped their demonic halves for now, V and the yet unnamed human half of Dante decide to stay together while scavenging around the destroyed Red Grave City. It sounds like a simple, but effective team-up, at least for the time being.Things are, of course, never as easy as they're made out to be.
Relationships: Dante & V (Devil May Cry), Or a form of Dante anyway
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40
Collections: I am in You and You in Me (Split!Dante AU)





	Too Human

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi! This fic is a part of the shared AU between me and Anataeus, in which Urizen (or Vergil, as he is referred to by the characters here) uses his win against Dante to split his human half from his demon half, and the repercussions of that. If you haven't read the other fics in the series, I highly recommend doing so! 
> 
> This time, we're following Dante's human half, who is, needless to say, a little... _less_ excited about the situation than his demon half. Takes place around half a day after the initial split in [Subhuman.](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/IaminYouandYouinMe/works/28594827)
> 
> Once again a huge shoutout to Anataeus! This probably wouldn't exist without her help, so direct some love at her fic in this universe, [two roads diverged in a yellow wood!](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/IaminYouandYouinMe/works/28595127)
> 
> Obligatory "fiction is not the same as reality, what are you, three?" disclaimer. In other words: Don't like; don't read.
> 
> Please enjoy!

The first rays of dawn peek their way through the night sky.

Rubble as far as the eye can see, smashed windows scattering glass everywhere. Thick, pulsing roots undulate every so often, causing another building to crash down, another street to get blocked off. People are screaming in the distance, those who had been unfortunate (or _idiotic_ ) enough to stay, despite the danger. Sirens blare every so often, warnings to those who still have the option to run, if that’s even possible anymore. The occasional roars and groans and hisses from demons, lured in by the demonic tree’s bloody feast.

The man with no name doesn’t know what to _do_. He’s terrified. He’s cold.

He’s _powerless_.

The events of the night keep repeating in his mind like a broken record, pounding in his skull like a particularly bad hangover. His first night of existence, and it could _not_ have gone any worse.

The way his demonic self looked at him, with such contempt, such _rage_ , lava dripping from its body as it approached him, while he could do nothing but beg for his life. It’s a miracle he survived at all.

He supposes he has V to thank for that- though really, it’s a little hard to be _grateful_ when everything feels like it’s collapsing around him. Like nothing matters.

Even the sun, warming his cold body, doesn’t feel like it’s worth it.

He sighs.

There’s a snort from nearby, and a croaking, demonic voice makes him look up at its iridescent, feathered owner.

"So how long are you gonna mope, princess?” Griffon jeers at him, flapping his wings as he takes off from V’s shoulder, circling him, who is without a name. “Get over yourself already! Just sitting here ain’t gonna solve shit!”

“Fuck off.” He grunts, looking over the ruined city as he sits in the rubble. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t do anything.”

“Why, and I even found some clothes and that fancy-pansy gun for ya!” Griffon swoops low, hitting his thigh lightly with his wing, exactly where he’s hiding said gun (a shitty, second-rate antique hand gun, barely enough to dent a demon’s hide. Nothing like Ebony and Ivory). “We coulda just left you with one-arm and oldie, so I think a little gratefulness is in order! Even good ol’ V-man wasn’t this much of a prissy asshole! Right? Hey, hey V, I’m right, right? I mean, you weren’t much better, but at least you weren’t just _sitting_ there-”

There’s a sigh from behind him, followed by another voice.

“Speak silence with thy glimmering eyes, and wash the dusk with silver." V’s voice carries a melodic tone, as it always seems to do when he quotes poetry, the sound of his sandals hitting the ground next to him. “My companion is right, however. We cannot stay here… Dante.”

The name sends a chill down the nameless man’s spine, despite its hesitant nature, as if V understands that it may not be appropriate. It steals his breath away, more images of the demon (his demon. That was _him_ ) swimming in his vision.

Dante wouldn’t have let that happen.

Dante, despite his shortcomings, was strong.

Dante would not be sitting here, moping.

But _he-_

“No.” His voice is coarse, rough, as he bows his head. “I’m not- I’m _not_ Dante.”

“No shit! You look like a light breeze can knock you over!” Griffons cackles. “That’s no Dante material, alright.”

V is silent, standing next to him as the nameless man continues to stare in the distance. Griffon continues to circle the area surrounding them, like he’s looking out for something. More than likely, he’s keeping an eye out for demons.

Not that the nameless man would know if demons were nearby anymore.

Not like he can sense them anymore.

“So, like, what _should_ we call you then?” Griffon speaks up again, tone a little less mocking. “Can’t just walk around without a name, ya know?”

He wonders. Does he deserve a name? Maybe it’s just better if he stays without a name; after all, he’s just an offshoot of a far more powerful being, useless discarded trash.

When he looked at his own demon, seeing just how ambitious it was, how ready it was to just take what it wanted…

Perhaps Vergil was right. He is _weak_.

He’s human and weak and worthless, an idiot who couldn’t save his own brother when it counted. A fool who hides behind smiles and pizza and fights, pretending that it wasn’t his demon that made him strong.

What good is human empathy and persistence when he doesn’t have the strength to back it up?

A piece of shit like him definitely doesn’t deserve a name like Dante. Doesn’t deserve the name his mother gave to him, once. Unlike V, he doesn’t even want to go by something like D (yeah, he’s figured that one out by now, at least. V isn’t as subtle as the guy probably thinks he is, not after _Dante_ got split into the demon and himself).

He realizes must have stayed silent for too long, because Griffon starts chattering once more.

“Hey, if you’re not gonna answer, I’m gonna give you a name, _honey_.” Griffon says, snorting. “I’m not gonna be nice about it, no-sirree! Better be scared, baby boy, because it’s gonna be _bad_ , so better hurry up and- ack!”

V has wordlessly snatched Griffon by the beak, shutting the bird up momentarily before he starts complaining at his master, groaning about tyranny and bird-abuse. It’s all things the nameless man doesn’t exactly care about, not right now, but he’s also not willing to let that chicken give him a name.

Perhaps…

He doesn’t deserve to be called Dante, but he also can’t be assed to learn to respond to a name he’s never gone by before. He’s already tired, and he’s barely existed for half a day.

But…

“Tony.” He finally says, interrupting Griffon’s little tirade, causing both the bird and V to look at him. “Call me Tony.”

There’s a single moment of silence, before Griffon bursts into laughter.

“ _Tony!”_ The bird hoots, its eyes sparkling with mirth. “What kinda name is _Tony?_ Oooh, mother, please do not be crass, my buddy Tony wishes to play with me! Hah! How basic can you get?”

“You told me to come up with a name. I came up with Tony. It’s fine.”

It _is_ fine. While Griffon is right that Tony is an incredibly basic name, it’s exactly why he- why _Dante_ chose it at the time, way back when. It had been a good alias. Inconspicuous. _Normal_.

It will work well as his own name now, because Tony always was a desperate plea to be more human.

A fat load of good that wish did him in the end. Now that he’s more human than ever, he’s also more worthless than ever. Meanwhile his demon half is wreaking havoc, most likely, relishing in its newfound freedom.

Either way, Tony is probably the only thing of Dante’s that he is worthy of anymore. It’s not perfect or anything, but a name is a name.

V hums, drumming his fingers on his cane while Griffon laughs in the background.

“Interesting choice.” The man says, drawing Tony’s attention to him. “Very well then, _Tony_. Now that this has been sorted out, we should be on our way soon.”

At least being called _Tony_ doesn’t feel too weird, he notes to himself, when V calls him by his requested name.

Still, Tony huffs, shrugging.

“What’s there to do?” He asks, turning to look at V. “Not much to find here in this ruined city.”

“Hm. Perhaps so.” V tilts his head, leaning forward on his cane. “Still, we are human, and we’ll need to find food. A steady water source would be preferable, too.”

“Eh, you humans and your needs.” Griffon touches down, roosting on V’s shoulder. “Food this, clothes that… so high-maintenance! At least us demons-“

Griffon doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

There’s a whizzing sound, barely perceptible to the human ear, a near-invisible blur of red that shoots by them before barreling forward, straight into the frail-looking V. Griffon screeches, wings flapping as V is knocked over, just barely keeping himself from being squished under his host, only to be rammed into by the red blur, sending the bird flying towards a crumbling wall. Desperately, Griffon tries to slow down, but he’s too late; a loud crack echoes through the area as he makes contact, the wall crumbling on top of poor Griffon’s flailing body, his confused and pained screeches quickly fading away as he goes into stalemate, blue orb rising from his liquid black body to recover.

Instinctively, Tony reaches for his gun, cursing as he springs upright. He frantically looks around for the red blur, mind racing as follows the occasional glimpse of it, trying to figure out its pattern. On the ground, V grunts, before he’s helped upright by a black ooze, which quickly transforms into his panther companion. V soon moves into Tony’s space, putting them back-to-back as Shadow growls, spikes flitting from its body as it tries to pin down the demon that’s attacking them.

“A Fury,” V hisses from behind him, “what an unfortunate encounter.”

“You can say that again.” Tony grunts, shooting at a spot in front of him where he believes the Fury will appear next, only to miss it by a fraction of a second, the demon quickly avoiding his next shot with ease, too fast for his human reflexes to follow. He curses again, punctuated by another growl from Shadow, wind whipping up as the Fury passes by them again and again-

It’s _playing_ with them, Tony realizes.

 _Dammit_.

They’re gonna die here, Tony numbly realizes, pulling the trigger on his gun only to hear it click, out of ammo. The Fury is too fast and strong for them to handle. They’re gonna die here, and they can’t do shit about it.

The thought isn’t as appalling as it should be- or rather, he doesn’t care as much about it as he should, probably.

God. He’s a real fuckup, isn’t he?

Before his thoughts can spiral further, however, there’s a loud rumble. Not even a second later, something crashes into the floor, metallic and round, which causes the Fury to stumble, making it visible to Tony and V. It shakes its head, disoriented for a moment.

“Your nightmare… begins _here_.”

V speaks, quickly followed by a roar, and suddenly, demonic energy fills the area, black ooze leaking from the orb and revitalizing V’s other pets. Shadow growls, and from the rubble that had buried Griffon is a victorious cry.

“Ye-ha-ha! Miss me, paperboys?” Griffon crows, shooting up from the rubble with lightning crackling along his wings. “Good ol’ Griffon is here to bring the pain!”

“Less chatter, more thunder.” V hisses at the bird as Tony reloads his gun. The Fury is already zipping around the area again, no doubt furious that its play-time with its prey has been so rudely interrupted. Shadow jumps around behind it, barely missing with its claws and spikes, while Nightmare swings its large fists around while trying to hit it.

“No need to tell me twice, V-man!” Griffon flies forward, attempting to interrupt the Fury in its path. “I’ve got my own bone to pick with this piece of shit!”

“Do it quick, then.” V’s voice sounds grave. “Nightmare is ill-equipped to deal with faster opponents, unlike you.”

Tony quickly realizes what V says is true, watching Nightmare struggle to hit the Fury now that it has lost the element of surprise. If the large demon is frustrated about it, however, it doesn’t show, merely continuing its warpath of destruction. Walls crumble as its fists swing into it, creating more obstacles for the Fury to run into; an attempt to slow it down. Lightning crackles as Griffon joins the fray, sending electrified orbs every which way while Shadow plays around them, shifting into a sawblade-like form and rolling around in circles around V and Tony, creating a sort-of barrier for the Fury to run into, should it attempt to go after them directly. There’s a distinct harmony in how V’s familiars work together like this, tracking down the Fury while at the same time protecting their vulnerable master, making sure none of their attacks harm either V or Tony.

For a moment, Tony feels something like relief.

As always, such relief comes too soon.

V staggers, almost falling into Tony as he uses his cane to keep his balance. On the battlefield, Nightmare’s fists slow down, its body starting to melt back into black ooze, disappearing from reality. The Fury, emboldened by the sudden departure of Nightmare, slams into Shadow, weapon making contact and causing the panther to stagger, reverting to its preferred form. Griffon goes in for a diving attack, but the Fury is already gone, only an afterimage left which he passes through harmlessly, before the real Fury appears once more, cutting into a cursing Griffon, who shakes off the immediate assault with an orb of electricity, but can’t put a real dent into the already escaping Fury.

“This is bad.” V pants, out of breath. “I have run out of energy. I cannot make Nightmare appear again for the time being.”

“You’re _kidding_ me.” Tony grunts, eyes flitting around, trying to track the demon while Shadow and Griffon desperately dart from place to place, occasionally yelping and groaning as the Fury slashes into them.

“We gotta get out of here V!” Griffon shouts, whirling away just in time to avoid taking another hit. “We can’t take this thing on right now!”

“We _must_.” V says, voice uncharacteristically anxious. “We cannot hope to escape this one.”

“Fuck, I know, but-“

There’s a roar, which quickly turns into a high-pitched whine, and before anyone can react, Shadow’s pantherlike form dissipates, revealing the red core inside as the Fury forces it into stalemate. Just as quickly, it descends on the startled Griffon, a well-timed slash putting the bird into a similar state.

Leaving both V and Tony utterly unprotected from the Fury’s wrath.

As if taunting them, the Fury comes to a standstill, its tongue lashing out to taste the air as it seizes them up, claws flexing and relaxing in a menacing way. If it could smirk, Tony has the distinct feeling it would, the threatening, vicious aura radiating off of the demon palpable even to his dulled human senses.

Tony swallows. Forces himself to aim the gun at the Fury without shaking.

He’s only been alive for 10-odd something hours, and exactly all of them have been shitty. His demon half, at least, looked like it was having the time of its life, before it got interrupted by V. He doesn’t know what the fuck that means for Dante, full, half-human-half-demon Dante, but there is one thing he does know.

He’s a useless sack of shit who has done nothing but wallow in his own misery without doing anything about it. Every move he’s made, every little step in the short time he’s been alive, has been instigated by V. V, who saved him from his demon self. V, who got Griffon to find him clothes and a weapon. V, who clearly struggles so hard, despite his weakness.

And then there’s him, Tony, who really couldn’t give less of a shit. He’s practically spat in the face of V’s efforts so far, endlessly moping and selfishly halting their progress when he just didn’t feel like going anymore, forcing V and Griffon to talk him into moving along. In the end, he realizes, it’s probably that what caused the Fury to catch them by surprise.

God. He’s such a worthless asshole. It’s his fault they’re in this situation. His fault that they’re going to die.

Fuck. He _deserves_ to die. He really does.

But V. V doesn’t.

Tony clenches his teeth. Puts his hand on V’s shoulder.

“V,” he says gravely, “I’m gonna shoot at the Fury. When I do, I want you to run. Don’t look back. Just run.”

“What?” V’s eyes narrow at Tony. “You intend to buy me time for an escape?”

“That’s the plan.” Tony chuckles, his eyes on the Fury circling them slowly, patiently. “Might as well do one thing right with this shitty hand I’ve been dealt, eh?”

“If the fool would persist in his folly, he would become wise.” V murmurs, and Tony doesn’t understand what the fuck he’s trying to say, so he doesn’t reply.

“I must stop Urizen- _Vergil_ by my own hand.” V continues. “I must live, Tony.”

“Yeah.” Tony agrees. “Someone’s gotta stop those two assholes, and I don’t think Nero can do it alone.”

The Fury’s tongue lashes out again, and its beady red eyes narrow, growing bored of circling its prey. A blood-red weapon appears along its arm.

Tony’s grip on the gun tightens.

“Well.” He says, suppressing a shudder. “Get ready V.”

There’s a whizzing sound, and the Fury’s image becomes blurry where it stands.

“Here it comes.”

Something red flits into existence not even two meters away from them.

There’s no time for hesitation.

Tony _fires_.

Then, all of a sudden, a lot of things happen at once.

A blur of black and blue descends from above, so quickly that not even the Fury could have seen it coming. In the corner of Tony’s eye, V has turned on his heel, ready to bolt away from the fight while Tony’s bullet ricochets off into the distance, not even having glanced the Fury- but that doesn’t really seem to matter, because the black thing, _whatever_ it is, slams down _right_ in front of the Fury as it is about to slash into Tony with a force so great that it creates a shockwave of pressure and air, knocking both humans right off their feet. Tony’s sight blurs with pain as his head hits the ground, dizziness overcoming him while the Fury screeches in rage. He can just barely make out the shape of the black thing stretching to its full height, absolutely _enormous_ from his perspective on the ground, before it brings a suspiciously sword-shaped tool, burning with bright blue flames, down on the speed demon, causing its high-pitched screeches to turn from rage to pain, only to then fizzle out into pitiful whimpers.

Forcing himself to act through the dizziness, Tony sits upright, hand still clenched around the gun as he blinks rapidly, trying to get his eyes to work again properly because holy _fuck_ , what just _happened_?

Slowly, the black shape in front of him becomes more detailed, every blink ridding him of some of the blurriness.

At same time, a feeling of queasiness settles in his stomach.

The queasiness becomes full-blown nausea when recognition finally catches up with his mind, and it’s all he can do not to vomit right then and there.

Bulky, black armor, accentuated with spikes and bright, glowing blue lines. A purple cape, unnaturally still despite the moving air. A flaming blue sword, buried deep into the weakly struggling Fury. A helmet shaped into a humanoid face, framed with forward curving horns.

The black knight tilts his head slightly into Tony and V’s direction.

A vivid, burning yellow eye comes into view. Not a trace of humanity in it.

Behind him, Tony can vaguely hear V wheeze. In fear? Anger?

Something else entirely?

Tony doesn’t get the time to dwell on it, because in the blink of an eye, the black knight- no, _Nelo Angelo_ \- pulls his gigantic blade loose from the twitching Fury, and turns around, glowing eyes meeting Tony’s intently. If Nelo Angelo is trying to convey a message of sorts, Tony can’t tell between his own shock and the expressionless helmet the knight wears, time feeling like it moves around him like _molasses_.

A moment passes.

Then another.

And another.

They stare at each other unblinkingly for what feels like hours, but realistically can’t have been more than a few seconds. He doesn’t know what’s happening anymore- Nelo Angelo is no more, right? V is the living proof of it, the human half of Vergil the same way Tony is the human half of Dante. Even if Nelo Angelo still existed, he could never exist at the same time as V could.

Right?

In the corner of his eye, the Fury starts to move again, low hissing sounds leaving its throat, and purely on instinct, Tony fires his gun at it again.

This time, the hit connects.

The Fury stops moving.

Nelo Angelo’s(?) head tilts minutely into the direction of the now-dead Fury, before turning back to Tony. He silently nods at Tony, exactly once.

Then, in an even more surprising move, he sinks down on one knee, and bows his head just far enough that it could be interpreted as being done so respectfully. His sword has lost its flame, a sign he is done fighting for now, stabbed into the ground before him.

Even if Tony wanted to say anything, he _couldn’t_. He’s too confused, too _distressed_ to do so, every thought in his feeble mind having come to a halt. What would anyone even say if a corrupted, enslaved version of their _brother_ suddenly swooped in to protect you in a losing fight, only to then sink down before you like a loyal knight?

It doesn’t make any sense.

It doesn’t make any sense at all.

Luckily, he’s saved from speaking by the distinct sound of two _cracks_ in the distance, momentarily drawing his attention away as V’s main two familiars burst into existence again.

“Alright bitch!” Griffon’s voice immediately pierces through the silence, furious and anxious all at once. “No more mercy this time, Griffon’s going… to…?”

The bird’s sentence trails off when he notices the scene before him, the crackling of electricity around his body dying down slowly as he assesses what’s happening. His usually chatty mouth is silent for a moment, swooping through the area before landing near Tony, V, and Nelo Angelo. On the ground, a formless mass of black speeds towards V, transforming back into the panther-like form of Shadow. The demon lowly whines as it pushes its head against the still catatonic V, who is as startled, if not more so, as Tony is.

A few seconds pass before Griffon speaks up once more.

“… Huh. Would you look at that?” The bird says, a bit more subdued than usual. “Who would’ve thought there’d be another one like us?”

Tony blinks. Turns his head towards Griffon, but doesn’t take his eyes off of Nelo Angelo, afraid of what it might do.

“What are you talking about?” He says, tone not as steady as he’d like, but fuck. “Another one ‘like us’?”

Griffon tilts his head, wings flapping as he hops forward, closer towards the Angelo, seemingly unafraid.

“See, we didn’t tell you before, because it didn’t seem important at the time, but us? Me, Shadow, and Nightmare? We’re literally that. Vergil’s discarded nightmares.”

Griffon doesn’t sound sad about it. He just sounds like he’s stating facts.

It doesn’t confuse Tony any less, but then, the bird continues.

“We made a contract with V because we’d die otherwise, yeah? We’re just nightmares, so we don’t have any real power; we need a host to live, and V became that host.” Griffon sighs, shakes his head. “It’s a bit of a two-way deal, you know? V gives us our life, and we protect him from danger- though we can’t exactly finish off demons ourselves, because even the worst nightmare can’t really hurt anyone.”

Tony doesn’t say anything, but an idea starts to form in his mind. He thinks he’s starting to understand, at least a little.

Griffon speaks again, and confirms his suspicions.

“Pretty sure this big ol’ knight is your nightmare, Tony,” Griffon nods at Nelo Angelo, and then at Tony, “and tall, dark, and scary here is offering his services to you the same way we offer ours to V. In other words: he wants a contract.”

Tony’s first instinct is to say no; Nelo Angelo is not only a constant reminder of his failures, of his _weakness_ , but also a strange, corrupted version of his brother. He doesn’t know if he can handle having something like that around. Who _would_ be able to handle something like that in the first place? No reasonable person would want that, just a looming presence of all their shortcomings nearby, haunting them, taunting them.

But, when he thinks about it again…

“… You said something about dying?” Tony’s voice wavers. “What do you mean by that?”

Griffon tilts his head in a distinct bird-like manner.

“Us nightmares don’t have infinite demonic energy.” He answers with a scoff. “We’re just kind of… leftovers. Unwanted and unneeded. So, if we don’t have a source to replenish that energy… well! We’ll bite the dust, so to say.”

“So that’s it then?” Tony asks. “He doesn’t want to die, so he wants a contract with- with _me?_ Of all people?”

“Hey, he’s _your_ nightmare!” Griffon makes a motion that could be interpreted as a shrug, if he weren’t a bird. “You still got some leftover demonic energy from when you were Dante, which is exactly what our kind needs. So pucker up, buttercup! What’cha gonna do about it?”

What indeed?

Nelo Angelo hasn’t moved a muscle since bowing down to Tony, the perfect vision of a loyal knight. Is that what Mundus taught him to do? _Forced_ him to do? He looks so powerful, same as the first time he saw him on Mallet. Will he really die if Tony doesn’t give him his contract?

If what Griffon says is true, would his refusal cause Nelo Angelo’s death?

The thought sends an ice-cold, bitter chill through his spine, flashes of a life that’s not his anymore dancing before his eyes. Blood-red eyes, hidden behind that helmet emotionlessly staring ahead as Dante strikes him with Alastor, lightning crackling along the blade. An inhuman scream, blue flames consuming the body before him. An amulet dropping to the ground from the dying knight.

Tony grits his teeth. Closes his eyes.

No.

_No._

It was his fault, back then, for not recognizing Nelo Angelo as his brother. For not bothering to help, even though he clearly should have. He struck him down mercilessly, caused his death, his agony, never even realizing until it was too _late_.

He opens his eyes again, meeting Nelo Angelo’s head-on, and bile rises in his throat. He can’t look at this man- this _creature,_ without wanting to vomit. He can’t imagine having him at his beck and call, forcing him into servitude the way Mundus once did. He can’t- he _can’t_ -

He lets out a shaky breath, body shuddering. If he refuses now, if he lets his own weakness win out, then he’s doing the one thing that ruined him, that ended any hope he ever had.

If he refuses now, he’s letting his brother- he’s letting _Vergil_ die again.

He can’t let his brother die again, not even in this strange, nightmarish form created from his former self’s mind.

Maybe he deserves this- no, he _definitely_ deserves this. This entire situation, this entire fucked up thing, it’s just karmic retribution for his past failures. He’s not a good person, never was, no matter how much he and the people around him liked to pretend. He’s weak now. This Nelo Angelo is dying, even if he doesn’t look like it. Behind him, V still hasn’t moved, and V, V is also his brother, isn’t he? If Nelo Angelo hadn’t intervened, if he hadn’t, for a lack of better terms, _rescued_ them…

Nero never would be able to stop Vergil and Dante’s demon halves by himself. Everything would be over before it even began, without at least V there to help him. Tony’s just a weakling, but if he accepts this, then maybe, just maybe-

“Fine.” He finally forces himself to say, holding out his hand towards Nelo Angelo. “Create a contract with me, then.”

Nelo Angelo doesn’t waste any time.

In a split second, black _ooze_ grabs his hand, before spreading along his arm, his torso, and then his entire body, twining itself around him, engulfing him completely. It’s a disgusting sensation, worse than demonic ichor clinging to him after a hunt, like a sentient slime is crawling on him under his clothes. Soon, ink-black tattoos start forming on his arms like cursed insignias, a tingling feeling that runs all the way up to his neck, obsidian particles sparking from his body as the images are seared into him.

And the, as quickly as it began, it’s over.

“Contract established.” Griffon crows, nodding. “More buddies for the nightmare squad!”

Tony turns to look at the bird, absentmindedly noting that the usually white locks in front of his eyes now have a distinct black _sheen_ to them, similar to V’s. Nelo Angelo’s doing?

There’s a low thrum in the back of his mind. He’ll take it as a yes.

Speaking of V, however, the man looks pale as a sheet, even moreso than usual. There’s a wild look in his eyes as he stares at the place Nelo Angelo once stood, unblinking from where he’s still laying, propped up on his elbows and by part of Shadow’s body. He doesn’t seem to actually be looking, however; he barely seems to have even noticed Nelo Angelo has gone _away_.

PTSD, Tony realizes, and winces internally. Of course the sight of Nelo Angelo would set off V _worse_ than him, and now the knight’s a permanent addition to his arsenal, how stupid could he _be_ -

“Hey, hey! Earth to V!” Griffon’s voice pierces the silence, followed by the sound of flapping wings before the bird dives onto V, landing _quite literally_ on top of his head. “We don’t have all day to laze around here buddy, so better snap out of it!”

“Hng.” V moans underneath Griffon’s feathers, before life seems to finally return to him, swatting at Griffon. “Get off.”

“Why, how kind of you to offer! Alas, humans aren’t my type.” Griffon cackles, but obediently takes off in the air again. “Sorry V, but this bird isn’t looking for a relationship _like that_ right now anyway!”

“Don’t be crude.” V sighs, before getting up, using Shadow as support. He stumbles a little as he does, but quickly stabilizes, reaching out to his cane, which was blown away by Nelo Angelo’s arrival earlier.

Tony doesn’t say anything when V takes the cane, before looking down at him, eyes devoid of emotions. Shielding them from Tony, he realizes; not that he blames the man, after… _that_.

There’s a moment of terse silence, before V sighs.

“If the Sun and Moon should ever doubt, they'd immediately go out.” The man murmurs, before shaking his head, holding a hand out for Tony to take. “Come. We must cover some ground today, lest we want a repeat performance.”

“… Right.” Tony says, taking V’s hand and getting up. “Where to, then?”

“Food and water.” V repeats his earlier sentiment, before turning to Griffon with a nod. “Find the way.”

“You’re the boss!” Griffon crows, before flying up high in the air. “Follow me, boys! We got a ways to go, so don’t complain if your legs start hurting!”

Neither Tony nor V speak, simply following the shimmering bird as he flies before them, occasionally yelling out directions. Even if he wanted to, Tony doesn’t exactly know what to say, so he simply doesn’t. If V feels the same way, he’s not going to nag the man about it either.

Should they talk? Probably. After what happened that morning, it’d be the right thing to do. No good partnership can last without some form of communication, at least.

But _Tony_ isn’t a good man, so he doesn’t, and _V_ is an offshoot of his brother, so he doesn’t, either.

The most talking happening that day is done by Griffon, always chattering about this or that, making fun of how slow they are and their human needs, or taunting demons when they cross their path as he fries them with his electricity.

They do not come across another Fury.

Tony does not call forth Nelo Angelo.

He ignores the excited thrum at the back of his mind whenever they come across a stronger species of demon. Ignores the frustration that isn’t his own when he simply uses his gun to shoot at them, and lets V’s pets take care of them. Doesn’t react to the stinging need to fight, every time it happens.

By the time the sun sets again, tiredness is tugging at his mind, his oh-so human needs preventing him from going on. V shares his sentiment, announcing to Griffon that they’ll be stopping for the day after finding an abandoned mall.

He doesn’t say any more to Tony than he has to, so Tony doesn’t say any more to him than he has to either.

That’s fine by him. Today has been an exhausting day from start to finish.

Maybe they’ll talk in the morning. They probably won’t.

Does it matter?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

They’re just discarded offshoots of their true selves, after all, so who’s to say, really?

Tony doesn’t know. V probably doesn’t, either.

Demonic cries echo in the distance as Tony settles down, closing his eyes, ignoring his own mounting inadequacy, ignoring the feeling of Nelo Angelo coursing through his veins.

No use dwelling on it when he’s trying to sleep.

Tomorrow is another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @Foxyinferno321
> 
> If you're curious about why we chose Nelo Angelo as Tony's nightmare familiar, it's because we felt like Nelo Angelo stood out the most among all the enemies Dante has fought, and the one he would probably have the most actual nightmares about, other than Vergil himself. It just felt like the right choice, to us!
> 
> Either way, please kudos and comment! I'd love to hear what you think!


End file.
